The poems in May are as follows:
1. This is a special season. The tenderness of spring and the enthusiasm of summer. May, ordinary and special.
2. May is flowers, and May is the sea. Flowers bloom quietly in May. The sea is at high tide in May. Do the waves come quietly? But I clearly feel your enthusiasm and your quickness. You are chasing the wind of spring, catching up with the new green of budding trees, and facing the prolonged upsurge of the May 4th Movement. In the rain of bullets, you are a boat with yourself as the sail, and the helmsman is named * * * Youth League after May. Ambition is not high, and the waves behind the Yangtze River push the waves before. This wave is the howl of May.
It was not the thunder in May that howled, but the heartfelt cry of young people: "democracy, freedom and equality". The roar shook the whole world. Awakened China, who had been sleeping for thousands of years.
my heart doesn't need to sleep, let alone die. I can't squander my youth for nothing. I really can't play dumb and stay out of the world. Otherwise, my blood will coagulate and my muscles will shrink into a pile of talking rotten bones and rotten meat. The soul will become a hairspring with nowhere to attach. Don't you believe it?
3. This is true. May is either withered or prosperous. There are always many colors in a prosperous world. What color are you in the prosperous May?
as red as blood, it's not the cuckoo's cry. It is the blood gushing from the tight veins of young people, and the passion like fire. It is as green as grass, and it has an inexhaustible spirit. Young people who wave upon wave have the spirit of "killing one of me, and there will be others who will come later".
if facing hay cutter. No, don't lower your noble head. "It doesn't matter if you behead, as long as the doctrine is true", you can chop off your head, but you can't chop off your faith, your spirit, and future generations who believe in you and your faith.
May is still blue, blue as the sky, which is the broadness of youth. May is still yellow, as yellow as mud, the unchanging essence of Huaxia nationality. If there were no colors in May, the world would become very pale. If young people have no color, what's the point of living?